


The Middle

by bunniewabbit



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Lotrips - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-20
Updated: 2003-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunniewabbit/pseuds/bunniewabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The importance of satisfactory sleeping arrangements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Middle

Elijah was awakened by a slow disentangling of limbs. He pulled back to allow it, waiting sleepily as a smooth back was turned toward him, striped with streetlight-through-the-blinds ribbons of black and silver. Before it could occur to him to feel abandoned, he turned away to his left and nestled up against another body, one which unfurled and accommodated him, skin whispering against skin as warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him close.

The middle was invariably Elijah's, and that was fine with him. He was the burrower, the heat-seeker. He found that he slept much better entwined with someone else; and if one of them turned away in slumber, he could seek out comforting warmth on the other side. Of course, if the friction of sliding his hand over a warm stomach resulted in heat of a different sort, well, that was fine with him, too.

Tonight, however, all he found was sleep as he lay snuggled up against Billy, his head tucked under Billy's chin, breathing softly against his chest. He didn't see Billy dip his head and breathe in the scent of his hair, nor was he really aware of a hand stroking slowly, soothingly, up and down, up and down his back. As Elijah slipped deeper into sleep's dark recesses, Billy crept further out, the soft tingling of his fingertips on Elijah's velvet skin spreading outward, downward, and pushing sleep away to be replaced by something much more urgent...

****

It wasn't the sounds that awoke Dominic, but the gentle motion of the mattress under him. Now he lay quietly, eyes closed, listening. Listening to the hushed, but unmistakable flow of breath catching, gasping, moaning. For a moment he smiled to himself, trying to imagine what he would see when he turned over and opened his eyes.

When he did, the sight that greeted him took his breath away and banished the imagined images from his mind. Elijah lay on his side, facing Dominic, his features cast in shadows, but for the streetlight reflecting off the rumpled sheets. His breathing came unevenly, lips parted, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn in and up in concentration. His right hand clutched the pillow under his head, while his left was thrust behind him, tugging at a barely visible curve of pale hip. Other than that, all Dominic could see of Billy was a pair of arms; one wrapped tightly around Elijah's torso, and the other all but disappearing into the shadows that bathed Elijah's hips. There was only small movement, but it was slow, rhythmic and deliberate.

Elijah's eyes slid open after a moment, heavy-lidded, glassy and unfocused. When they found Dominic's, dark and glittering in the bands of light, Elijah smiled and started to speak, but Dom's name was lost in a groan as Elijah threw his head backward, eyes clamped shut once again. Dominic saw Billy raise his head from behind Elijah, but gave a small shake of his head at Billy's smile of invitation.

Dominic continued to watch, fascinated, and it wasn't long before he saw Elijah go tense and breathless, his whole frame shuddering, followed shortly by Billy, and all without any more sound than a gasp and a sigh. They lay together, panting, for a few minutes, until Billy pulled away and rolled to his back, leaving Elijah alone in the middle of the bed until Dominic reached out and gathered him in, twining their legs together and pulling him into his chest as his breathing evened out and turned to soft snoring. He held the slight form in his arms, staring into the light filtering through the blinds as he stroked Elijah's hair, wondering how long he could refrain from pressing his hips into the still-damp body huddled so tantalizingly close to his own...

****

Some mornings, Elijah awoke late and felt not so much well-rested as well-fucked. And that was more than fine with him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


End file.
